


For the Ball

by DarkHorseAsh



Series: Neurodiverse/Mentally Ill Critical Role Oneshots [5]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anxiety Attacks, Basketball, Panic Attacks, Past Child Abuse, Service Animals, if the M9 has the chance they'll probably put him there, this is probably going to be absurd, trent ikithon should die in a hole
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-08-31
Packaged: 2020-10-04 12:33:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20471099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkHorseAsh/pseuds/DarkHorseAsh
Summary: Three years ago, Caleb Widogast had loved Basketball.  Now, after 3 years at Cerberus Academy, just the Sound of a basketball was enough to bring back the memories.  But when he's not given a choice and made to join the team, it'll turn out to be the best decision of his life.





	For the Ball

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this amazing drawing: https://twitter.com/hierothraxs/status/1167882613828153347 I suspect this is going to be updated pretty quickly and is just a bit of absurdity. I hope you all enjoy it.

Caleb Widogast stepped into the entrance hall of Exandria Academy and tried to resist the urge to run away. The school was large, larger than his old one, and he found himself reaching a hand down to tangle it in the fur of the large dog who stood at his side instinctively. The orangish dog woofed, giving a lick at his owner’s hand, clearly sensing Caleb’s distress. He took a deep, slow, breath and moved forward, pulling on headphones in an attempt to block out the waves of murmurs and the stares that he knew Frumpkin was attracting. He went straight to the library, where Nott had told him to meet her that day, and he couldn’t stop a little hum of relief when he saw the small girl.

“Nott.” she nodded, tucking herself into the space against his side and scratching Frumpkin’s ear with one hand as the big dog braces against Caleb’s side. “Caleb. You ok?” He shrugs, leaning into the small hand that worked at his incredibly tense neck. “J-ja. You said something about breakfast?” The girl perked up, pulling out an apple and what looked like a breakfast sandwich and passed it over, watching Caleb wolf it down with something painful in her eyes. “Did you get another letter?” He shakes his head, sighing and standing slowly. “I, uh, no, thank you Nott, I should go to class.” She watches him bolt, Frumpkin nearly having to run to keep up, and sighs internally.  _ “He’s going to get himself hurt.”  _

Thankfully, class was  _ easy  _ for Caleb. He’d already learned this material at his last school, which did raise some somewhat unpleasant memories but  _ did  _ mean that he could pay very little attention and still ace the problems, tangling a hand desperately in Frumpkin’s fur. The dog seemed to sense his discomfort, tongue lapping over skin as Caleb fought to ground himself. He managed to make it to the end of class, at least, before ducking into the hallway and running straight into a very tall girl with black and white hair and fierce eyes.

“I, I’m sorry? I don’t, I’m sorry.” Caleb mumbled rather desperately, ducking around the now-still figure and bolting in the direction of the nearest bathroom. He slumped onto the floor of the single-stall bathroom as soon as he reached it, feeling the heavy weight in his lap as Frumpkin scrambled onto his knees and dropped paws on his shoulder, burying his head in the dog’s neck and breathing in his warm, fruity scent. He wasn’t sure how long he sat there before his breathing evened out and his fingers loosened from what had been a death grip on Frumpkin’s fur. 

He made it through the day. And the next. And the next. And a whole two weeks. He’d even say he was doing well, if he ignored the half dozen panic attacks a school day every time he saw a basketball or heard someone yelling or saw someone move too fast or really just  _ existed  _ in the school for any length of time. His grades were decent enough, if only because he knew everything already, except for his 0 in gym class which he was sincerely hoping they just didn’t notice he’d never been to. He spent  _ that  _ period curled up in a spare storage closet, book in German open on his knees and dog draped over his feet. Nott found out after a week or so and started skipping  _ her  _ German class, which was that Period, to tuck herself into his side and read the books over his arm and make him translate the words she didn’t understand.

It was a month into the school year when he got the text. He stared down at it for a long moment, then another, feeling the panic bubbling in his chest without really understanding it. Frumpkin  _ barked,  _ loud and worried, shoving at his side to force him to stumble sideways into the wall. He slumped down and curled up, head buried in his arms, and  _ shook  _ like the world around him was falling apart. He barely noticed strong hands grasping his elbows and tugging him, somewhat gently, towards a secluded stairwell. 


End file.
